


Thunder and Lightning (Very, Very Frightening)

by Kaijuscientists



Series: Fictober 2019 [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Nightmares, Thunder and Lightning, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-07 20:44:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20982098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaijuscientists/pseuds/Kaijuscientists
Summary: Thunderstorms and nightmares are not a good combination for sleeping demons.





	Thunder and Lightning (Very, Very Frightening)

**Author's Note:**

> third whumptober entry, for the prompts adrenaline and nightmare. 
> 
> My goal is to post one more this week, but it's gonna be something fluffy instead of whump.

It starts with a thunderstorm. 

A thunderstorm and the open window above a sleeping demons bed. 

Crowley tosses and turns, caught in the throes of a nightmare. The particular memory he was being forced to relive tonight is the great flood. 

The nervousness of the people when the rain started to fall, and the fear when it didn’t stop. The panic that ran rampant when the waters started to rise. When everyone realized that if they weren't on the ark they weren’t going to survive. 

The children, all of the children Crowley couldn’t save. He tried, oh he tried so hard, but he couldn’t do a thing. Could barely carry himself on his rain soaked wings. 

Entire villages washed away in torrents of water and he was helpless to do anything. She had wanted this, he thought, and no one would survive except for the lucky few deemed worthy to create the next generations. 

The ark. He hoped the angel is on the ark. He should be. 

A loud clap of thunder startled him and the next thing he knee, he’s falling, hitting the water with a loud splash. 

A gasping shout catches in his chest and he thrashes against tangled sheets 

—————

Aziraphale has never in his life run up his stairs as quickly as he did just now. Hearing Crowley’s scared shout set off every alarm in his body, adrenaline flooding his system. 

He bursts into their bedroom, expecting the worst, but finding Crowley alone, pressing himself back against the headboard. 

The window above the bed was wide open, the storm that’s raging outside blowing in and soaking Crowley and the bedding. 

A snap of his fingers closes the window as he crawls onto the bed. Crowley eyes wide and full yellow, hazy, not really seeing, but darting around the room as he fights with the sheets, breathing heavily. 

“Darling, what’s happened?” Aziraphale asks, his hands hover around Crowley, afraid that if he touches him he’ll end up scaring him even more when he’s clearly already distressed. 

Crowley kicks out, sheets hopeless tangled around his legs, and almost pushes himself out of the bed. Aziraphale’s quick reflexes save him from tumbling to the floor, as he grabs the demon by the arms. 

The angels touch on the rain chilled skin of his bare arms is so hot it almost burns, pulling him out of his nightmare and into the present. He blinks, the room around him coming into focus. 

“Angel?” He whispers, voice weak, his eyes finally landing on Aziraphale. 

“There you are.” He says, one hand cupping Crowley’s cheek, before moving to brush his wet hair back from his face. “Where did you go, love?” 

“Nightmare.” He’s says quietly, suddenly aware that he’s freezing and shivering. Rain still dripping down his bare skin, his nightmare dazed brain having trouble separating the reality from the dream . “C-can you, don’t wanna be wet.”

“Of course,” A wave of his hand, and Crowley the bed are dry once again, sheets no longer tangled around his legs. “It’s raining and you fell asleep with the window open.” He offers as explanation. 

“That would do it.” Crowley says, his limbs still trembling slightly, even though he’s dry. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Thunder rumbles almost directly overhead, loud enough to rattle the shelf’s he keeps in the room. Crowley reaction is visceral, nearly jumping right into Aziraphales surprised arms. 

“Sorry,” Crowley says, thoroughly embarrassed, hiding away in the angels neck. What kind of demon got scared of a little thunder. “Not usually this twitchy.”

“I assume this has to do with your dream?”

Crowley hums, winding his arms around Azriaphale’s waist. He was still chilled and the angel was so, so warm

“Was about the flood.” Crowley says, exhaustion seeping onto his words. He doesn’t specify which one, knows the angel will know exactly what he’s talking about. “Bad combination, you know. Dreaming your drowning, while getting rained on in reality. Wouldn’t recommend it.”

“No, I can’t imagine that’s very good.” Aziraphale says, rubbing Crowley’s back, to comfort but to also help warm him a little. Holding Crowley like this, he can feel his full body flinch when it thunders again. 

”Do you want to lay back down?”

“Only if you’ll lay with me.” Crowley says, his fingers twisting in Aziraphale’s sweater. He’s positive he won’t be sleeping again tonight, at least until the storm passes. But laying with Aziraphale, soaking in his warmth, might help to soothe some of his anxieties. 

“I was already planning too, dearest.” He soothes, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s temple and he can feel the hint of a smile against his neck. 

Aziraphale miracles himself out of his clothes, leaving him in just his undershirt and boxes. With some maneuvering, they both get horizontal, Crowley resting his head atop Aziraphale’s chest.

“Much better.” Crowley says as the gentle weight of the thick comforter settles over top of them, tension bleeding out of his body. 

He enjoys himself for all of a minute, before lightning lights up the room, thunder booming right after. It makes his heart race and his limbs tremble. He presses closer to his angel, tangling their legs together. 

“Nothing’s going to happen, you know,” Aziraphale says. 

“I know that, angel.” Crowley’s sighs, blessing his traitorous body. He really wasn’t scared of thunderstorms. “By product of being scared awake, I think.” 

Aziraphale hums, trailing his fingers softly up and down Crowley’s back. He’d never gotten the hang of sleeping. He could manage a nap sometimes, but he never experienced dreams or nightmares. So he really doesn’t know what Crowley is feeling at that moment. 

“I could distract you,” Aziraphale offers, when the demon in his arms flinches again as thunder claps over head. “If you like.”

“Just talk to me.” He says. Aziraphale’s voice was always calming for him, and with each clash of thunder, adrenaline surges through his system and honestly, he’s over it. He’s convinced at this point the storm is stuck over the shop. “Tell me a story.”

“With pleasure, my dear.”


End file.
